It's not the Garlands
by Dold Lejon
Summary: Steve helps a drunken Tony escape from a Christmas party. However, once they reach a quiet room, Steve feels as though Tony is more interested in the Christmas decorations than talking to him. Slash. One-shot.


"Tony? You aren't looking so good…" Steve's sentence dropped off and he could barely hear himself over the noise of the party. He wondered if Tony had even heard him. It appeared Tony had not, however. He did move closer to the blonde man, though. Actually, he stumbled closer. Steve knit his brow in concern. "Tony, here, let me-" Tony nearly elbowed Steve in the face, "Come this way," Steve finished, wrapping his arm around Tony's torso and guiding him away from the party guests.

The pair shakily made their way down the hallway and toward a dimly lit room. Steve nudged the door open with his knee and all but hoisted Tony through the doorway. There was a rocking chair, a fainting couch, and a few book shelves in the room. Not to mention candles. Their light flickered and caused shadows to dance across the wall. Red and green garlands hung on the walls and reflected the light. It seemed every single room had been decorated, Steve thought to himself.

"Steve," Tony murmured softly, his head bobbing slightly on his shoulders. Steve inched forward, letting Tony down onto the fainting couch slowly and then turning to close the door to the room, blocking out the sound of jolly Christmas music as best as he could. Tony ran his hands through his hair and stared up at the ceiling.

Steve turned back to face the room. Large windows gave the two men a nice view of the snow that was fluttering down outside. Everything looked as though it belonged in a children's book. Steve walked over to the window to watch the snow fall until Tony made a noise behind him. Steve turned around, moving over to Tony and crouching down beside him.

"Do you need anything, Tony? Do you think you're going to be sick?" Steve inquired, his worried eyes searching Tony's face for any sign of distress. He had seen the man with multiple drinks in hand over the course of the evening. Now it seemed as though he had one drink to many.

"Food," Tony murmured, his eyes watching the dancing flame of a candle on the shelf closest to the fainting couch.

"What kind?" Steve asked.

"Just… food…" Tony groaned softly. He brought an arm up and draped it over his eyes.

Steve stood, figuring he would just grab something mild for Tony. He left the room quietly, not shutting the door completely behind him. He then ventured back through the crowd of chatting groups and bustling bodies dancing near the Christmas tree. He finally reached the table where food had been set out and grabbed a small, paper plate. Gingerbread men danced around the edge of the plate in festive colours. Steve scowled. He didn't understand disposable dishes very well.

Glancing up and down the length of the table, Steve wondered what would be best. He finally settled on a few slices of cheese and some crackers. He also grabbed two gingersnaps; one for himself and one for Tony if he was feeling up to it. Nearly ready to head back to Tony, Steve noticed Clint and Natasha in the kitchen leaning over the stove. The smell of apple cider reached his lips and he was drawn into the kitchen immediately.

"Hey Cap, want a cup?" Clint asked when he noticed Steve. Clint had already started to fill a mug with a reindeer on it.

"Yes, please," Steve said softly, nodding sheepishly. Clint handed him the mug and went back to his conversation with Natasha. Steve turned around and headed back through the crowd. He nearly broke out in a sweat trying to balance the plate and mug without spilling anything. Once he was through the crowd, he felt like he was home free. He hurried down the hallway and back into the room, shutting it behind him by kicking it softly. He found Tony sitting up on the fainting couch and staring up at the garlands.

"Here," Steve said, handing the plate to Tony. Tony smiled thankfully and picked up a slice of cheese, nibbling it slowly. Steve sat down next to him and place the mug of apple cider on the end table.

"Are you feeling well, Tony?" Steve asked, hoping for a straight answer.

"Yeah, yeah. I'll be fine. Just a bit too much to drink," Tony said, his voice quieter than usual.

"I can see that," Steve said, and he regretted saying so immediately. Tony's brows had knit together and he shied away from Steve, instead looking out the window at the falling snow as he nibbled at another piece of cheese. "I'm sorry, Tony," Steve said, reaching a hand out to grasp Tony's chin gingerly and turn his head back to face him. Tony glanced up for s brief second, and Steve wondered what Tony found so fascinating about the garlands.

"It's fine, Cap'," Tony murmured, pushing Steve's hand from his chin gently. Steve flushed. "Is that cider?" Tony asked, his voice a bit louder now. He eyed the reindeer mug hungrily. Steve turned to look at what Tony was staring at and smiled sheepishly. He grabbed the mug and handed it to Tony.

"Yeah, it is."

"I _love_ cider. You don't understand, Steve," Tony excitedly rambled, gasping the warm mug from Steve's hands. He brought it to his lips and took a tentative sip, testing the temperature. He took another sip after deciding it wasn't too warm, but shortly after a frown plastered his face.

"What's wrong?" Steve asked, his expression flipping back to concerned in a mere moment.

"No cinnamon stick," Tony mumbled, handing the mug back to Steve. Steve was baffled. He was upset because Steve hadn't put a cinnamon stick in the cider? "But never mind that," Tony added, his eyes flickering to the ceiling and down again. Steve set the mug down a bit peeved with how much Tony had been looking up at the garlands.

When Steve had turned back around to face Tony again, he found Tony with a very serious expression. It almost seemed as though Tony was already started to get a hangover, Steve observed. His face was nervous, pale, even a bit clammy. Steve reached a hand out to press against Tony's forehead. He was a little warm, but not too warm. Steve was about to let his hand fall from Tony's forehead when Tony's fingers brushed up against Steve's, wrapping softly around Steve's hand and pulling it lower on his face. Steve flushed with his hand now cupping Tony's cheek.

"Tony… I uh, are you alright-"

"Shh," Tony whispered, cutting Steve off. Steve did so out of shock at the sudden noise from Tony.

"I'm confus-"

"Shhh!" Tony hissed, his shushing more fervent. Steve closed his mouth, not daring to say another word. "You're ruining the moment, Steve," Tony mumbled, breaking eye contact with Steve for a moment.

"How?"

Tony eyed Steve, disbelief evident in his eyes. "Have you really not noticed?" Tony scoffed. Steve's puzzled expression urged Tony to explain. Tony's gaze traveled to the ceiling again as he parted his lips. "Mistletoe," he breathed softly. Steve followed his gaze and observed Tony was correct; they were in fact seated directly beneath a rather large bouquet of mistletoe.

"Tony…"

"_Kiss me, Steve_," Tony whispered, though the demand was understood. Steve even detected a hint of desperation in the man's voice. Even so, he wasn't sure if he should. "_Please_…"

Steve couldn't handle the look on Tony's face; his eyes half-lidded, pleading Steve to close the space between their lips. Steve was beyond flustered, but he nervously brought his hands to Tony's hips and kissed him softly; it was a simple brush of the lips. However, Steve found himself wanting more. He pressed his lips harder against Tony's, and he wrapped his arms more surely around the man. Tony in turn draped his arms over Steve's shoulders, a soft sigh of pleasure escaping his nose.

Steve continued the kiss, pushing himself on top of Tony and forcing him back against the fainting couch. His arms were on either side of Tony now, holding Steve above him, but just barely. Steve broke the kiss, the need for a good breath dominating his desire to explore Tony's mouth.

"Ah, _Steve_," Tony groaned, running his hands through his hair.

"So, what now?" Steve asked tentatively. He looked down over Tony's body with a new, alien hunger in his eyes. He had never gone from simply sitting with someone to wanting them so quickly.

"We could… get naked?" Tony asked, though it was much more of a suggestion. Steve flushed as he thought of seeing Tony naked beneath him. Tony eyed the larger man seductively as he started to pull off his shirt. He finally worked it over his head and tossed it to the floor, and then he moved on to removing Steve's shirt. Steve was silent as Tony did so. When Tony's hands started to work on Steve's pants, however, Steve had to protest.

"Tony, I think we should wait," Steve gasped as Tony's fingers wiggled underneath the waistband of his pants. The last thing Steve wanted to do was take advantage of a drunk Tony.

Tony pouted a bit as he pulled his hands way from Steve's pants. "Will you at least kiss me again?" he asked, eyeing Steve like a puppy would eye a treat is desperately desired. Steve couldn't protest to kissing.

Slowly, Steve leaned down again, pressing his lips against Tony's passionately. He tangled his right hand in Tony's hair and tugged on it a bit, testing the reaction. A soft moan told Steve Tony enjoyed it. A smirk worked it's way over Steve's lips for a split second. A second later, he felt Tony's tongue force its way inside his mouth. He reacted by nipping softly at Tony's tongue, and he followed this action by forcing Tony's tongue back into his own mouth. Tony submitted, sucking and kissing at Steve's own tongue as it explored his mouth.

The pair went on like this for a few more minutes. Their concentration was broken by a quiet snicker from the doorway, followed by a loud thump. Steve pulled away first and turned to look at who had been spying. He was met with a hunched over Clint who was rubbing his head and an embarrassed Natasha.

"Mistletoe…" Steve murmured softly, straightening out his shoulders.

"Oh it was more than mistletoe, Cap'," Tony mumbled, pressing soft kisses against Steve's sweaty chest. "You two, out," he added, sending an icy glare at Clint and Natasha. The pair excused themselves with red faces, and Tony and Steve were left with nothing but themselves and the mistletoe dancing above their heads.


End file.
